| Met her at a guitar shop on
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| Santa Monica and 7th Street
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| The salesman tried to get my attention
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| To sell me a Mexican Fender
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| She came to get her 10,000 steps and
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| Hang out with her boyfriend
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| But I was only trying to get to know her
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| So I took her out to the ocean
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| It was hot, hot, 100 degrees
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| But she only went in up to her knees
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| She didn’t want to take off her jeans
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| 'Cause that would be insane
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| My summer love, oo-we-oo
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| My summer love, oo-we-oo
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| Oh she loves me, she loves me, she loves me not
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| Oh she loves me, she loves me, she loves me not
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| She got a bachelor’s degree in physics
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| And a job in computer programming
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| That’s pretty cool for a singer in a band
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| So I knew we would end up jamming
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| Later that night we went to a gig
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| And she asked for some advice
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| «What do you do with your hands when you’re singing
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| Do you just hold onto the mic?»
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| It was hot, hot, 100 degrees
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| And the trash overflowed out on the street
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| The heartbreak DJ stepped to me
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| But I just couldn’t get enough
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| Of my summer love, oo-we-oo
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| My summer love, oo-we-oo
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| Oh she loves me, she loves me, she loves me not
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| Oh she loves me, she loves me, she loves me not
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| Gonna fly so high
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| To a place that we have never seen
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| Ever since you came 'round
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| In a greasy tee and faded jeans, woah
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| I got a cozy pad around the corner
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| Slide a little closer
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| My summer love, oo-we-oo
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| My summer love, oo-we-oo
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| Oh she loves me, she loves me, she loves me not
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| Oh she loves me, she loves me, she loves me not
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| Oh she loves me, she loves me, she loves me not
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| Oh she loves me, she loves me, she loves me not |